the district court seems to have changed, or the wind was blowing
from another quarter; at all events, Graetz suddenly and with
painful surprise became aware that unceasing intrigues and malicious
denunciations had at last taken effect upon the district governor.
He found himself exposed to serious annoyances and humiliations. No
effort to ward them off promising success, he resigned his position at
Lundenburg.
He felt impelled to return to his native Prussia, and determined to
remove to Berlin with his family. The decision was inspired by the
hope of easily finding in the capital a publisher for his history
of the Talmudic epoch, which was almost ready for the press. He was
furthermore actuated by the consideration, that in the prosecution of
the plan of writing a complete history of the Jews, already taking
shape in his mind, he could not well do without the libraries to be
found only in large cities. In the latter half of September, 1852,
he arrived in Berlin, and was kindly received by Dr. Michael Sachs
and other friends willing to serve him. Through Dr. Sachs he became
acquainted with the excellent Dr. Veit, who undertook the publication
of his work. During the winter _semester_ 1852-53 the directors of
the Berlin congregation invited him to deliver, for a honorarium, a
number of historical lectures before students of Jewish theology,
in a course in which the other speakers were Zunz and Sachs. His
lectures were received with approval.[32] At the close of one of
them, delivered in the middle of February, he was approached by Joseph
Lehmann, railway director and editor of a journal in good standing,
“Magazine for Foreign Literature,”[33] a man justly enjoying high
respect. Acting under the instructions of the Board of Curators of
the Fränkel Bequests in Breslau, Lehmann asked Graetz, whether he
would be disposed to become a member of the faculty of the rabbinical
seminary to be established at Breslau. At the same time he told him,
that negotiations with Dr. Frankel, Chief Rabbi of Dresden, were
pending with regard to the directorship, and that Frankel, among other
conditions of his acceptance, had demanded Graetz’s engagement as
teacher. The Board of Curators had assented cheerfully, and now desired
Graetz’s answer. Graetz made his consent dependent upon Frankel’s
final, favorable decision, which was received soon after. These
preliminaries over, the troublesome discussions on the organization of
the seminary began. In the first place, no model or scheme whatsoever
existed that might serve as a guide in the organization of a rabbinical
academy, with regard to such matters as the time-schedule, the
curriculum, and the choice of subjects. Its creation was pioneer work,
in furtherance of which there was no available experience; yet the
arrangements determined upon under such peculiar circumstances were
to bear within themselves the guarantee of practical and immediate
success. Besides, the will of the founder, Jonas Fränkel, contained
certain clauses, the execution of which, in view of the changed times,
might become a menace to the new institution.[34] The plan, curriculum,
and methods of the future seminary were determined by Zacharias
Frankel alone, who recognized the aim to be pursued with clearness and
practical insight, and so created the basis for the Jewish theology
of the present. His wish to secure a professionally trained man,
whose assistance might be freely drawn upon by himself and the Board
of Curators, was all the more willingly complied with, as from many
considerations an intermediary between the business and the pedagogic
heads seemed not superfluous. Frankel had parted from Dresden with a
heavy heart, and was inclined to seize the first fairly just pretense
to recall his word to the Curators. Thus it came about that Graetz
entered the service of the projected seminary on July 1, 1853, with
the assurance of being employed, under Frankel’s directorship, as one
of the principal teachers,[35] in case the statutes and the plans for
the institution met with governmental approval, which seemed not at all
doubtful.
V.
THE MASTER HISTORIAN.
At the same time Graetz’s book issued from the press under the title:
“History of the Jews from the Downfall of the Jewish State to the
Completion of the Talmud.”[36] This was really the sub-title. The chief
title-page ran as follows: “History of the Jews from the Earliest Times
until the Present Day. Volume IV,”[37] indicating that the author had
conceived more than the first sketchy plan of a complete history of the
Jews, and that the publication of the fourth volume first was merely an
accident in the order of production. Beginning with the account of the
Talmudic time turned out a happy hit. If the two literary events admit
of comparison, Graetz’s first important work has its only counterpart
in the biography of Rashi, with which Zunz, the creator of the science
of Judaism, inaugurated his notable activity. The enthusiasm of Zunz’s
contemporaries is said to have been kindled when Rashi, the eminent
interpreter of Bible and Talmud, familiar to them from their childhood
days, and esteemed an indispensable guide and companion in exegesis,
appeared to them divested of the vaporous halo of supernatural glory,
and translated into the sphere of human reality. Similarly the effect
was electrifying when a flood of brilliant light suddenly scattered the
mist of the dark epoch in which Mishna and Talmud, the authoritative
books of post-Biblical Judaism, were composed, and revealed to sight
life-size the rabbi-authors of those works, whose names and maxims
were matter of common knowledge. The pen of our historian had charmed
them out of the unreality of their existence. They had been habitually
looked upon as abstractions, doctrines incarnate. Not much more had
been known of them than that they had said, asked, and sometimes
wailed. At best, people had been inclined to imagine them a sort of
Kabbalists or Polish itinerant rabbis. Now it was seen that hot blood
and throbbing life pulsated in their veins. Their clear-cut, mental
features with their characteristic excellencies and shortcomings
distinguished one from the other. They stood before the reader in
checkered array, true knights by the grace of intellect, antique
figures, glowing with patriotism, of inflexible will and indestructible
faith. With equal vividness the author depicted the spiritual
atmosphere of the time with its humors, passions, fermentation, and
struggles; the surging and seething of ideas, factions, opinions, and
aims in wild disorder and violent opposition to one another; and the
final evolution of the impelling forces which determine the course of
historical events by the exchange of thrust and counterthrust. Graetz
wanted to make the heart-beat of the period perceptible to the senses.
Therefore, he was little concerned about the technical correctness
of his style and diction. He did not shrink from brusqueness in
words, nor from luridness and voluptuousness in coloring. Without
regard to sensitive feelings he chose the plainest, the most striking
expressions, that he might be understood by all; that no doubt as to
his opinion might suggest itself; that personages and events might
appear upon the canvas in a clear light and in the proper position, as
they were mirrored in his mind.
The book naturally aroused a great sensation upon its appearance. It
at once created an audience for itself with which it found a rich
measure of favor and applause. On the other hand, most of the author’s
scholarly colleagues at first reserved their opinions. They were taken
aback by the new data, which--as, for instance, the formation of
Christian sects--had been boldly pressed into service to complete the
picture, and they could not reconcile themselves to the description
of ancient conditions by means of modern catchwords and turns of
expression peculiar to the lighter forms of literature. For example,
Graetz characterizes Nachum of Gimso, in whose life mishap after mishap
redounded to his benefit, as the Candide[38] of the Tanaitic world of
legend. He seeks to reconstruct the details of the Bar-Cochba revolt,
the chapter on which is one of the most beautiful and touching in his
“History,” from single names and widely scattered debris. He goes so
far as to speak of two lines of defense, the Esdraelon line and the
Tur-Malka line.[39] He charges the eminent teacher Judah ha-Nassi with
irritability and sensitiveness.[40] Relying on Talmudic accounts, he
refuses to credit the Romans with a civilizing mission in Asia, and
describes their influence in Western Asia in particular as destructive
of culture and detrimental to morality. Such features of the work
confounded the critics and judges. They did not venture to decide
whether the boldness of genial originality was asserting itself, or
only the uncouthness of fantastic sensationalism, whose tinsel would
not stand the test of time. Moreover, the two religious parties looked
askance and with dissatisfaction at a book written to serve the truth
only and not available for any sort of propaganda. Loud and public
quarrel between them had ceased in the face of the world-stirring
events of 1848 and their consequences, but they were as sharply divided
as ever. The adherents of the reform party reproached the author
with having glorified the Talmud and its teachers, and with having
omitted to touch in “a single word”[41] upon the sorest spot, “the
petrifaction and ossification of Judaism” brought about by the code and
its exponents. The rigidly orthodox, on the other hand, were incensed
at the criticism, unwarranted in their eyes, to which he subjected the
bearers of tradition and at his effort to prove the body of traditional
doctrine the product of historical processes.[42]
But no voice dissented from the opinion, that in Graetz Jewish science
had gained an eminent promoter with astonishing scholarship at his
disposal. His qualifications and achievements were too extraordinary
to be belittled on account of the unavoidable errors that had slipped
into his history. It could not be denied, that research had received
a decided impetus, and that the sum of historical knowledge had been
considerably increased by Graetz’s results, which he had obtained
by his mastery over the two Talmuds and the Midrash literature; by
his close acquaintance with patristic works; by his effective way of
bringing these two widely separated literary spheres close to each
other, permitting the one to shed light on the other, and thus clearing
up critical points; by his happy gift first of discerning, in spite
of the rectification they frequently stood in need of, that certain
data scattered over various by-paths of literature were complementary,
and then of combining them with each other; and by his acuteness in
detecting with unerring glance, animating with spirit, and applying to
good purpose, long disused geographical names and obsolete terms lying
forgotten in some dark corner and buried under debris.[43] In view of
the fact that it required rare courage to venture upon the elaboration
of one of the obscurest and most difficult portions of Jewish history,
thoroughly neglected at that time in the way of special research and
monographs, even his opponents could “not help confessing that on
the whole he had fulfilled his task satisfactorily.”[44] There was
evidence, to be sure, of still higher courage in Graetz’s announcement,
made without fear or diffidence, on the title-page and in the preface
of his book, designated as the fourth volume, that he intended to
publish a complete history of the Jews, written in the same spirit of
critical research and in the same style. The promise gave occasion for
ironical insinuations. How could a single individual hope to accomplish
so great an undertaking? Was Graetz endowed with the creative, plastic
power of the genuine historian? Or, perhaps he expected to obtain the
laurels of the historian on credit!
On the whole, circumstances shaped themselves in a way favorable to
him, and facilitated the execution of his bold undertaking. It should
not be imagined that a community, or--still more extravagant idea--a
Mæcenas offered to furnish him with the means indispensable for the
accomplishment of a task such as he had set himself. Brilliant as his
achievement was, how much greater it might have been, if he, with his
genius for work, had been put in a position to examine and use at his
leisure the manuscript treasures of the various European libraries! Up
to the present day such good fortune has not befallen Jewish science.
It seems as though the Jewish race, endowed with an understanding
heart and an open hand for humane interests in general, has not yet
awakened to a full recognition of the debt of honor it owes its own
past. Graetz, however, was well content to be relieved of the irksome
care for his daily bread by the ratification, on April 10, 1854, on
the part of the Prussian government, of the statutes, the plan, and
the teaching staff of the Rabbinical Seminary. He returned to Breslau,
where his literary star had first risen, and where he had once tried
vainly to establish himself permanently. Thenceforth he remained there
in the congenial position of a regularly appointed teacher at the first
Jewish theologic institution, which was inaugurated, with Z. Frankel as
director, on August 10, 1854, under the name of “The Jewish Theological
Seminary founded by Fränkel.”[45]
It must be looked upon as providential that the task of first
impressing the modern spirit upon the theologic training for the
rabbinical office fell to the share of men of such eminent distinction
as Frankel, the director of the new institution, and Graetz and Jacob
Bernays, its regular teachers. The personality of each of the three was
strongly marked. Each one was a _homo trium litterarum_, in the sense
that in subordination to his specialty, he had acquired mastery over
the Hebrew-rabbinic, the classical, and the modern literature. By deep
and earnest thought each had arrived at a conservative view of Judaism.
Of the three, Jacob Bernays,[46] a scholar of far-reaching fame in
classical philology, doubtless possessed greatest ability as a teacher,
which, however, demanded talented pupils for its effective exercise.
Frankel’s forte lay in his tact as an organizer and in his practical
gifts; he exerted wholesome authority over his disciples in religious
as well as scientific matters. Both desired to impress their scientific
bias upon those that came under their influence. Graetz, on the other
hand, heeded the individuality of his pupils, and in his activity as
teacher had in mind especially their stimulation and encouragement.
Frankel was desirous of transferring to the Theological Seminary the
rigid discipline and detailed supervision of an elementary school,[47]
because his dearest object was to turn out thorough Talmudists and
professionally well-equipped rabbis. Bernays aspired to the romantic
splendor of a theologic faculty, and wanted to educate scholarly
theologians. With correct and healthy instinct, Graetz endeavored to
reconcile these opposite aims and identify the Seminary with a middle
course. Although Frankel grasped the rudder with a firm hand, he was
sensible enough to consider prudent counsel and kindly enough to give
scope to the wishes and views of his colleagues. In this way harmony
prevailed among the Seminary teachers, which reacted beneficially upon
the students. As long as he lived, Frankel justly maintained what
officially and morally was the dominant position in the Seminary. The
prosperity of the institution he considered the consummation of his
life-work, and being childless, he regarded his pupils as his children,
and took a truly paternal interest in their fortunes. Next to him
Graetz exercised the most generous hospitality towards the students. He
was ever ready to serve any one of them that needed help and advice.
Especially such as had aroused his interest, or had impressed him
favorably with their ability and character enlisted his sympathy, which
he manifested with all the ardor of his temperament. Like Frankel, he
identified himself completely with the Breslau Seminary. After many
thwarted plans and years of anxious uncertainty, he felt that, at
last, through his position as teacher at the Seminary, his vessel had
floated into deep, navigable waters, that he could venture to ply the
oars with full force, unfurl all the sails, and, favored by wind and
weather and propelled by the buoyant courage peculiar to his sanguine
nature, steer straight for the destination whither impulse drew him. It
was the first time that his official duties coincided with his inner
vocation. Faithful, zealous performance of the service he was engaged
to do promoted the work he had set himself as the goal of his life. In
regular, uninterrupted succession, volume after volume of his “History”
now began to appear in complete realization of his plan.
In 1856 the _third_ volume was published under the title, “History
of the Jews from the Death of Judas Maccabæus to the Downfall of the
Jewish State.”[48] It formed the complement and justification of his
view of the Talmudic epoch, the one with which he had begun as being
the period “least understood in its inner relations.” At the same time
the third volume distinctly bounds the spiritual territory in which the
Jewish history of the diaspora is rooted. For he intended to dispose
of the Jewish history of the diaspora down to the present time before
beginning the account of the Biblical and the early post-Biblical
periods. Therefore, when he published his fifth volume, “History of
the Jews from the Completion of the Talmud (500) to the Beginnings of
Jewish-Spanish Culture (1027),”[49] he had, as he said in the preface,
“got back on the right track.” Now every doubt was bound to vanish;
after many years a genuine historian had arisen unto Judaism.
The historian must not be confounded with the scholar. The chief tasks
of the latter are the critical examination of historical records, the
determining and grouping of facts, the identifying and differentiating
of persons, the demarcation of time and place, and the defining and
demonstrating of the causal relation between events, their succession,
and their interaction. The minute details to which his research happens
to be devoted at any moment are as important in his eyes as great and
comprehensive principles. Style, form, and manner, moreover, are minor
considerations with the scholar; he aims only at accuracy and lucid
presentation adapted to the subject-matter. The demands made upon the
historian are more numerous and more exacting. He must constantly carry
the whole in mind, he must have the ability to mould the historical
material with an artist’s creative power and restore the faded features
of the past by the life-bestowing word. First of all, he must be
equipped with unlimited mastery over the existing material and with
easy and sure grasp of all the phases of the historical process, in
order to be able to estimate every phenomenon duly, according to its
intrinsic value and its external effect, emphasize characteristic and
significant points, and allot to persons and events their proper place
in the historical succession. He cannot, of course, dispense with the
acumen that intuitively arrives at the inwardness of every detail.
For it is needful, not only to determine with critical penetration
the trustworthiness of existing traditions and documents, but also to
discern and demonstrate, as one traces the course of a stream with its
tributaries and branches, the presence of the primal forces at work
under the surface of things, giving them impetus and direction, and
of the factors that impede, strengthen, or divert the action of these
forces. From investigations of this kind the historian should derive
the chief points of view, those which grow naturally and logically out
of the course of events. The true historian must be endowed to a high
degree with a faculty for presaging, amounting almost to divination,
that he may, like a “backward-looking prophet,” overcome the inadequacy
and incompleteness of the material transmitted to him; restore the
defective parts by means of his plastic fancy; and everywhere recognize
as well as bring to the recognition of his readers, that historical
events in their connection are developments from within outward, the
outcome, not of a game of chance, but of the workings of absolute
law. For such results of his research and insight the historian must
then find adequate expression. His presentation of them must serve as
the clear, polished mirror reflecting the play of many-hued, chaotic
details in distinct and simply grouped pictures, and permitting the
peculiarities and characteristics of single persons and events to be
apparent, as the warp and the woof are distinguishable in the finished
fabric. Real life as it throbbed in the happenings of the past must
stand renewed before our eyes, and its fresh, warm breath as it brushes
us must constrain our souls to respond at once to its humors and
passions.
These qualities are the distinction of Graetz. By reason of their
possession and exercise he is a master historian, and his art manifests
itself in each of the twelve comprehensive volumes in which he has
thrown light upon the history of the Jewish race from its early
beginning to the present, a period of more than three thousand years,
with every part of the earth as the scene of its events. But we have
not yet come to the end of Graetz’s accomplishments as an historian.
The lack of special studies in the province of Jewish history made his
attempt to write a history of the Jews appear untimely and the prospect
of successful execution slight. His undertaking seemed to be opposed
not only by well-nigh insuperable inner and outer obstacles, but also
by stubborn prejudices. Graetz heeded nothing of all this. Unaided by
any committee or corporation, simply by virtue of his exuberant genius,
he executed the apparently impossible work. He created the history
of their race for his brethren-in-faith, and awakened in the general
public sympathetic interest in the past of Judaism. With bold hand he
ventured to brush aside the layer of dust and mould encrusting the
darkened portraits of the past, and restore freshness and color to the
faded, pale contours and forms.
The most important particulars upon which the value and influence of
his work depend deserve analysis.